


to love, to loathe

by witchboywriting



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, M/M, Morning After, No Sex, No Smut, because we love to kiss Lucio on the cheek, lots of face kisses, mentions of previous sexual encounters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 23:21:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19119790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchboywriting/pseuds/witchboywriting
Summary: Heloathedthe feeling it gave him. Heloathedthe pit it created in his stomach that made him feel sick and, for a reason Lucio could not seem to uncover, disgustingly honest. Heloathedthe way he felt his heart race when you did it. Heloathedthe power he felt coming from you, like you had taken off every last layer of his pride and power just by looking at him, like you had stripped him down to nothing...but what he loathed the most was thathe loved it too.





	to love, to loathe

**Author's Note:**

> enjoyed this work? want more? requests can be made [here](https://witchboy-writing.tumblr.com/ask)
> 
> want to see updates on my stories? see how things are going? give opinions on what I should write next? hear my rants? follow me [here](https://witchboy-writing.tumblr.com/ask) on tumblr, love.
> 
> * * *
> 
> **responding to a request from a tumblr anon: found[here.](https://witchboy-writing.tumblr.com/post/185337725948/hi-i-recently-commented-on-your-fic-childish)**  
> 

_Bright...to no end it was bright._  
It had been a long night, one that had required you to be up at unsightly hours, and now that it was time for you to rest, now that the work was done, now that everyone was pleased, the sun had come to show its face, shining brightly through the open window. It's warm rays covered your body in an unbearable heat, keeping you from retrieving even a moment of your well-earned rest.

“Draw that god forsaken curtain!”  
...then again, you could not blame the sun when most of what had kept you from rest was Lucio’s handiwork. His whining and complaining and groaning would keep anyone from sleep. You could blame the sun for a good many things, but you could hardly blame her for Lucio.

You sighed, raising your head, opening your eyes to see Lucio, half expecting him to be glaring at you, commanding you with the look that always grew along his face when he had grown tired of asking (the look that hardly enabled you to say no to him). Yet, Lucio was not looking at you at all. He layed, his right arm draped over his face, covering his eyes from the light, and a scowl covered his lips. He was upset, clearly. He wanted you to take care in his requests, certainly, but he was not commanding. He acted the same as he always had around you and you alone: quiet and wanting, begging and whining, like he was exhausted and desolate.

Lucio was quick to remove his arm from his eyes, swinging his head to his right to glance at you, knowing you had to have heard his request, needing to confirm that you were simply ignoring him. When he saw you staring back at him with a sense of wonder in your eyes and a smirk on your face he knew you certainly had heard and ignored him. You were teasing him, toying with him, hardly wanting to get up after Lucio had kept you up the entire night before. Yet, he knew you were more than willing to do so if he simply asked.

“Please, magician.” He whined.

The tone in his voice reminded you of the night before. It was the first time you had heard Lucio’s sharp, demanding voice fall and turn to something weak and wanting and needy. _“Only for you...only because of you”_ he had said, and it was the first time you felt you owed the man something. It was the first time you had decided to indulge him….this would be the second.

“Fine.” You groaned, slowly raising and heading to the opposite end of the room, reaching up and grabbing ahold of the curtains draped over the brass hooks that held them against the wall, bring them down to cover the window, to block the light, doing as Lucio had asked of you.

The room now sat dark. All you could see of Lucio were what the small streams of light coming through the curtains had allowed you to see: Little bits of his chest and his jawline and his smile…. _a smile. How rare for Lucio._ (But how could he not smile? After all, you were a vision in the morning as you stood across the room, hardly dressed, half awake and glowing in the sunlight.)

You grew closer to him, walking back to the bed, watching as he stretched his right arm over his body, extending it, reaching for any part of you he could grasp. However, you did not come to Lucio, instead making your way to the small in-table that sat next to the mattress, lighting a candle that sat there, bringing light to the dark room.

“That is what we have servants for, Magician. You hardly need to do such a thing.”

“I do not want to _wait_ for them.” You said, bringing your match to the candle wick, “I want to see you _now_.”

A noise escaped Lucio’s lips (a bit lusty and a bit loving), as he grabbed ahold of your thigh (the only part of you he could grab from his lounged position on the mattress) and pulled you closer, “Sleep with me...Lie with me.”

“I think i’ve lied in this bed enough for a while, don’t you?”

Lucio did not like that. _He did not like that one bit._  
Lucio had never wanted something he could not have….or, at least, he hadn’t for a long time. The start of his rule in Vesuvia had granted him power, a power that ensured he would never struggle to get what he wanted. He had reveled in this power for years, simply demanding instead of asking, taking instead of wanting. Yet, you had not cared one bit about his power. You had not cared one bit about _him_. You had been difficult with him. You had been cold.

Lucio glared at you now with a cold demeanor, “Lie with me.” He repeated as if saying it again would hypnotize you, as if saying it with force would condemn you to lie with him. Yet, you simply stood there, staring down at him, _looking right through him_.

Lucio groaned under his breath, tightening his grip on you just before releasing you in anger.  
Like a child throwing a tantrum, he turned away from you, lying on his back once more, staring at the ceiling with arms crossed over his chest. He puffed out an enraged breath he had been holding. This was all for show. It was a way to get what he wanted. He was not certain it would work with you, but this was all he had. He wouldn’t ask you again. He _couldn’t_ ask you again. He couldn’t risk having you look right through him once more. It made him feel sick. It made him feel weak in the knees and powerless. _He loathed it._

He _loathed_ the feeling it gave him. He _loathed_ the pit it created in his stomach that made him feel sick and, for a reason Lucio could not seem to uncover, disgustingly honest. He _loathed_ the way he felt his heart race when you did it. He _loathed_ the power he felt coming from you, like you had taken off every last layer of his pride and power just by looking at him, like you had stripped him down to nothing...but what he loathed the most was that _he loved it too._

Lucio could not help but wonder if that was why he had let you do just that the night before - _strip him down to nothing._  
Maybe that was why he was so eager to get you into his room: he wanted to see you look the same way he felt. He wanted to see you powerless under him. Yet, that was not how things had gone at all. (It was Lucio against you. He was no Count. He had no kingdom. He had no power. In a fight like that, you could do whatever you liked. He knew he had nothing against you, and, for the first time Lucio could remember, he was comfortable in his weakness. After all, you had been just perfect for him. You had not given him what he asked you to, but what he so clearly wanted. If one could treat another both gently and rough than that was what you did, and Lucio _loved_ it just as much as he _loathed_ it.)

Lucio had spaced off, completely lost and taken by these thoughts. He hardly looked happy or stubborn or stern like he had a moment ago. He simply looked lost. _His smile_ ….you found yourself missing it.

“Alright.” You said, indulging him one final time, “But only if I receive something in return.”

Lucio would have been mad. Under normal circumstances, for a commoner such as yourself to ask something of him? Well, it was shameful. It was a request Lucio would never meet. Yet, there was something calling to Lucio as you said it. There was something telling him to be patient with you, to listen, to wait.

“And what would that be, magician?”

You did not respond to Lucio with words. You simply fell, your knees hitting the edge of the mattress as you grabbed ahold of his face, bringing your lips ever so close and placing them along his jaw, rubbing your thumb along his cheek. At first, Lucio found himself more annoyed than pleased. You had left his question open, without a response. You had hardly said or done anything that let him know of your intentions. _What was it you wanted from him?_

You ran your hands across his shoulder, running them down his back, then working them back to his chest just before shoving him down onto the mattress. It was hardly an act of violence or lust, but a simple following of his commands.

_Lie with me_ , he had said, so you did just that.  
You spread yourself across his form, now flat against the mattress, placing gentle kisses along his neck and jaw, and, slowly, Lucio grew less suspicious, more comfortable. It was not long before he brought his eyes to a close, realizing a sigh from his lips, letting them spread wide to a smile.

“That’s it.” You whispered in his ear, quiet and gentle and breathy, “That is all I wanted, Lucio...to see you happy...to see you smile.  
That is all I want in return.”

Lucio cooed, purring ever so slightly, ever so lowly and gently as he nuzzled his cheek to the top of your head.

"I love this part of you, Lucio. Not your power or your stature. None of that has ever mattered to me for a moment. _This_." You said, pointed to his lips, running your finger over them gently, pressing at the flesh, referring only to his happiness and his rare bright smiles,  
“ _This is all that matters_."

Lucio could have kissed you. He would have in a heartbeat if it wouldn't have stopped you from running your hands all over his lips. He would have if it meant he could still see the lustfully loving look that covered your face. He would have….be he didn't. Lucio simply let you take control, realizing for the second time in two days that he loved it when you did just that.

_“To see you smile, that is all I want, Lucio.  
That is all I could ever want for you.”_

**Author's Note:**

> comments don't pay the bills, but they certainly make me happy.


End file.
